


Chocolate and Blood

by Missy



Category: Friday the 13th Series (Movies)
Genre: (as fluffy as they get), Christmas Sweaters, Crack Treated Seriously, Family Fluff, Gen, Humor, Humorously Applied Gore, Trick or Treat: Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 18:29:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21141236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Jason - soaked with snow - returns home to his mother.  She knows how to fix up his winter blahs.





	Chocolate and Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scioscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scioscribe/gifts).

Murdering via cross-country skis is a hard concept. Jason didn’t quite know why he hadn’t invested in snowshoes. It was hard to stomp around in skis, especially when the teenagers you’re chasing are getting stronger and stronger because they have more and more athletic experience than he does.

This is why Jason hates the winter. Fall is harder to stalk in – crunchy leaves means campers have a better sense of when he’s coming for them. Spring makes his nonexistent nose run thanks to a never-cured pollen allergy. But winter? When he had to shift his entire base of operations away from the cave and get pelted in the face with snowballs?

Sometimes being a serial killing monster resurrected by his mother sucked.

He returned to the cave with a severed head and dejected posture. “Oh dear, did they get you with snowballs?”

He nodded.

“Well, I know how to fix that.” She bent over the fire he’d built that morning. Jason watched his mother move in silence and thought about how cold his underwear was and how desperately he wanted to change into some fresh coveralls.

He didn’t expect his mother to give him a mug filled with cocoa. 

“There you go!” she said. “Made it special with a big block of stuff down from the general store, just how you like it.”

Jason made a sound of assent, pulling up his mask to sip at the brew. It really was good, and warmed up his demonically engineered insides in seconds.

Then she held out a fresh pair of coveralls. As always, she turned around and hummed as he changed clothing, and she put the shredded, blood-coated uniform in the laundry.

“There we are!” she said, handing over a few threadbare towels for him to dry off with. “Now put on Mommy’s favorite sweater.”

That wasn’t exactly what Jason wanted to do, but his mother was so insistent. So he pulled on the sweater – with its bright-eyed snowmen and its red-and-green snowflake pattern.

Part of him managed not to die entirely of embarrassment. Pamela pecked his cheek and sat down with her own mug of coco.

“There you go! Such a good boy, killing for mommy so well!”

Jason blushed. No matter how old he got – or tall – or better at running through the snow – his mom’s praise would always mean something important to him.


End file.
